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The Straight Lines
I am one to perfect. Everything must be in line in order for it to make perfect sense to me. You could say that I'm obsessive over flawlessness. I am not a selfish person though. I dream of a world in which everyone is marked perfect. Can I make that happen? I can try. Serrated knives aren't the solution to any problem. My jewelry must be worn straight, and the serrated edge tends to tear and leave a jagged line. Personally, I prefer a straight blade. It makes the job easier for me to craft my bracelets. I had to make sure that I was perfected in my skills before spreading my gift to humanity. Of course, I made myself bracelets and wore them, delicate and straight. Oh, my bracelets are beautiful. Soon, I started giving bracelets to other people. But, there was something strange about them. They never liked my hand-crafted jewelry. Why? Don't they understand that bracelets are beautiful? They squirmed and screamed, and they made my artwork messy. The bracelets that I made for them weren't straight. They weren't perfect. Per... fff... ah. I need to take a deep breath to control my frustration. Maybe necklaces would work better for them than bracelets. Yes, that is a good idea. Excellent. I'm very proud of myself now! A beautiful, straight necklace worn on a pretty girl would satisfy my need for perfection. The next night, I found a customer for myself. A young girl of 15, beautiful long, straight brunette hair, bright, golden eyes. Oh, I'm just imagining what beauty that my jewelry will provide her with! So, I approached her and I offered to make her a necklace, and if she likes it, I can make her some bracelets too. She smiled at me, and followed me back to my shop. Once she was comfortable sitting in the chair, I shut the door and went to stand behind her. I moved her soft hair out of the way, and gently tilted her chin up with my fingers. My, my, what a beautiful neck she has... my first necklace will look gorgeous on her. I turned and picked up my crafting tool, a small, silver blade with a heavy and delicately engraved handle. It carves the jewelry so beautifully. This tool was only reserved for the most pure of my customers. I held my tool next to my leg, and walked up to the girl again. She looked at me, and I told her that the necklace I had prepared for her would look amazing with her eyes. She blushed, and again I lifted her chin up to expose my canvas. I don't know why she didn't scream like the others. I knew there must have been something special about her, or maybe it was the necklace. Either way, my art was perfect. A beautiful, straight cut was running across the flawless throat of the girl, the crimson-coloured blood dripping down her collarbones. She was still now though... She never told me if she liked my necklace. But, I had promised her that if she was good, I'd give her bracelets too. I crouched down next to her lifeless body and got to work crafting her, the lines on her wrists cutting deep, straight. Her body became my drawing board, her wrists and neck beautifully displaying my jewelry. The lines were straight. Thin. And oh, so straight. They were perfect. Category:Mental Illness Category:Dismemberment